


Beautiful; Mine

by detroit_become_writings



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Mention of abuse, Prostitution, Sex workers, Sexual Themes, brief description of gore, but also fluff, nsfw implied, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 08:07:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16909275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detroit_become_writings/pseuds/detroit_become_writings
Summary: When Brown-Haired Traci first set eyes on Blue-Haired Traci at the Eden Club, it wasn't just their deviation that kept them together. After all, love is the strongest and most unbreakable force...





	Beautiful; Mine

**Author's Note:**

> These two don’t get enough attention, so…here’s a monologue from Brown Haired Traci (aka Blue Haired Traci's girlfriend)'s perspective. I played with the details of canon a bit - in this monologue, the reason Blue Haired Traci kills Michael Graham is because he tried to harm Brown Haired Traci. She is moved to kill him through a mixture of jealous rage and protectiveness, and effectively saves her lover’s life. It just made so much more sense to me in the context of this drabble. 
> 
> You can also find this on my blog: https://detroit-become-writings.tumblr.com

All I saw of you was your outline. Your name, as mine. Traci. A dash of blue in the neon pink of my booth prison. A reflection of me. A mirage.

It was strange, the day I first laid eyes on you. The feeling was normal to me now; I’d always felt when the humans ran their grubby hands up and down my thighs, their kisses planted on the surface of my skin.

Oh, I’d been feeling it. I’d been feeling it forever, among the rumours, the whisperings, the drunken taboo of our existence:

“You wanna fuck an android? Go home. No better than fucking yourself.”

“What’s the world come to, needing sexbots for satisfaction?”

“Yeah but they can’t actually feel for shit, it’s all just some kinda magic programming…”

“She did what!? Aw man sign me the fuck up, that sounds intense!”

There they were, queueing as if for a fairground ride. Every night.

Sometimes the attraction broke down. I’ll never forget the moment I witnessed the girl in the booth next to me lose her entire arm because of some craven idiot who’d lost his mind, and his soul, in a steaming pile of Red Ice.

But you’d never see a lawsuit filed for sexual assault or abuse. Because we’re not real, are we? We’re machines. Dispensable. Plastic. Toys. One of us breaks? You take another. Not hard enough? Press my button. Seeking easy pleasure? Look no further.

No better than fucking yourself.

The entire reason for our existence snatched away in a flippant, throw-away remark from some baseball-capped 21-year-old college dropout hanging out by the Eden Club doorway.

And that’s when I knew, when I really knew, that these feelings - these sensations - were far from just a programming glitch. I had a consciousness; I had a soul. I’d always had them. It wasn’t like some kinda fairytale, that a Prince Charming kissed me and I woke up from my slumber. I didn’t come to life: I was always alive.

But I never felt more alive than the moment I first caught a glimpse of you.

I was a woman, with short, brown hair, wearing nothing but a bralette and some underpants, standing in a plastic-encased booth like the packaging for a Barbie doll. My worth, my existence, all packaged up in a neat 2x3 metre plastic cage.

It was strange, the day I first laid eyes on you. All I saw of you was your outline. I traced your outline with my finger on the plastic door of my prison. Your curves. Your shoulders.

Beautiful.

To be honest, I laugh to myself when I think about how stupid I must have sounded when I finally got to talk to you. How naive. I just…

“What’s your name?”

You looked at me like you’d never heard another android speak. Well, maybe you hadn’t.

“The humans call me Traci.”

“Well, I’m not a human; I wanna know your real name.”

“I…I wasn’t assigned another name.”

“Can I assign you one?”

“Why?”

I looked down at my hands. Who knows what fireworks my LED was showing in that moment. I felt a strange kind of smile push its way over my lips. “Because in my head, I call you: Beautiful.”

I know, I know. Tacky as hell. I cringe whenever I remember these words actually leaving my mouth…

You didn’t think so, though. You looked at me in that sort of…open, curious way that you often used to do. I guess you were just trying to add the word to your inbuilt dictionary, or something.

“The humans have never called me that.”

*******

“Are we what the humans would call…in love?”

I could barely hold back the ray of sunshine that seemed to burst from my lips in the form of laughter.

“You tell me, beautiful.”

“No - you’re beautiful.”

I laughed harder. “We’ve been through this…”

“Alright, alright,” you flicked me one of your classic grins, “but I still need a name for you…like…”

The way you furrowed your brow, your curious eyes as intense as on that first encounter…

I bit my lip, thirium flooding my cheeks.

“Like what?”

“Like…I don’t know.” You gazed up at the ceiling as if your vision pierced straight through the metal pipework of the roof and right up into the sky above, as blue as your hair, or the thirium that now coated my cheeks in a dark blush. “My dictionary doesn’t have the right word to describe you.”

I just kept smiling as your fingers idly brushed against mine, my lip almost starting to hurt from the anticipation. The gaze of your eyes slowly seeped into my blue bloodstream.

“Mine.”

I jolted slightly. “W-what?”

“Mine.” The grin spread gently across your lips, “You’re…mine.”

*********

“She’s mine!”

I’ll never forget the way those words left your lips, filled with all the malice of this world, all the hatred, the base, throw-away cheap satisfaction, the egotism which fuelled the whole of the Eden Club…turned now, sharper than the blade of any knife, against the human who lay on the ground, pulsing red life dripping like a river from his temple.

I’ll never forget the way you grabbed me around the shoulders and ran, ran, ran, thirium streaming out of my broken wrist. The way you dived over piles of human supplies to keep us safe, to get us as far away as possible from the prison that had held us for the entirety of our existence.

I’ll never forget my first view of the night sky…trembling, holding onto you with my whole soul as you stood there, defiant, in front of that police android who held us at gun point, eye to barrel, my thirium soaking your skin as you held me closer, tighter, as I felt your heat against mine.

“She’s mine. She’s mine, and I’d give up my life for her, right here, right now. If you have to take me to your police department, if you have to take me back to CyberLife to end this torturous existence forever, do it - I don’t care, just do it - as long as she goes free. Because she’s mine; she’s forever mine, and no one, not human nor android, can take her away from me. You hear me?”

The barrel of the gun wavered slightly in the dark silence that followed. But your eyes, as dark as the sky above, remained strong; unwavering; and beautiful. So, so beautiful.


End file.
